


Defence

by EtoileGarden



Category: Queen's Thief - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Abuse, Other, Ownership, non-con, not nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 20:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11043309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileGarden/pseuds/EtoileGarden
Summary: Thoughts on Nahuseresh, in his 'defence'.





	Defence

In his defence, it didn’t happen very often.  
I know my master very well, his capricious moods, his melancholy, his joy, his anger, his lust.  
This mood, which only took him every few months, was none of these, or maybe all of these.  
If he added enough alcohol to the cocktail of his emotions, this is what would come out.  
A Nahuseresh who would call me to his bedchamber, order me between his sheets, yell at me for pulling at his blanket, then press his lips to mine.  
I have never mistaken these actions for love, even if I know others who would have, who talk of moments like these as bright shining things.  
He doesn’t kiss me with affection.  
Sometimes when I write something well, he will praise me with something close to affection. Sometimes when I buy him something he hadn’t even known yet he wanted, he will smile at me with something near affection.  
He doesn’t kiss me with affection.  
When he kisses me, I know more than ever that I belong to him. And I don’t mean that I belong to him like his wife belongs to him, or his house belongs to him, or his money belongs to him.  
I belong to him like his blood in his veins belong to him, like his bones belong to him, like his sharp cutting tongue belong to him.  
I am not a separate entity. I am not even a thing. I am part of him, a part of him with which he can do whatever he pleases.  
In his defence, I know that he never means to hurt me so, he always apologises the next day.  
He never asks for forgiveness, he knows he doesn’t need it. Would you ask your hand for forgiveness if you cut it? Would you ask your leg for forgiveness if you bruised it?  
I always give it to him though. He never asks for it, but when he sits by my side and says he is sorry, I look at him, I shake my head, “You are always forgiven, my master,’ I say.  
It is after I forgive him that I receive his affection. He brushes my cheek with his hand, his rings scrape my cheek but it doesn’t matter.  
He kisses my brow, his beard scratches but it doesn’t matter.  
He says, “Kamet, what have I ever done to deserve you?”  
He is always so kind afterwards, and that is what I look forward to.  
Maybe for the few days after he catches me gently by the arm, brushes a bruise hiding below my collar, pulls at my tunic to reveal it so he can kiss it.  
I do not mistake these actions for love.  
I do think of them as affection though.  
When he kisses my bruises, I know it is a sign of his ownership, I am his and the bruises on my body are his, and the air in my lungs is his, but does he not think highly of himself?  
If he were to lose his hand would he not mourn it? If he were to lose his leg would he not mourn it?  
I am not such a fool that I think he loves me.  
But I am the fool that believes he needs me.

**Author's Note:**

> No I don't like Nahuseresh, no.


End file.
